All These Lives
by SmurfyFriend
Summary: It started out as an ordinary morning... Until Tino opened the door to his son's bedroom and his heart stopped in his chest. SuFin, little bits and pieces of FrUK on the side. T for very mild language because I'm paranoid.


**AN: Ack x_x so much writing... This is a project that has been abandoned and restarted like 30 times. not even kidding. it's taken me like-a fucking year to finish this. and in a sleepless night thanks to coffee and artistic tangents, it's all done.**

**Yes, this is a SongFic to "All These Lives" By Daughtry :D**

**Main Parings: SuFin with Child!Sealand, and some FrUK because it's my guilty pleasure. no trigger warnings, just some language. **

**Enjoy, you may want popcorn lol**

* * *

The sun shone through the kitchen window as the slim-figured Finnish man prepared breakfast for his lover and son. It was his adoptive son's first day in first grade. Such a special day called for a special breakfast. Tino hummed a little tune as he prepared the eggs, sliding bacon and sausage on the ready plate for the "Full Breakfast" from the child's motherland. The stairs creaked loudly as someone descended the stairs. A tall man with sky- blue eyes shielded by thin framed glasses appeared at the foot of the steps, his blonde hair a bed-head mess.

Tino smiled, placing his spatula down on the counter, and pouring the Swedish man a cup of black coffee. "Good morning, Berwald." He said happily.

The taller of the two mumbled a 'good morning,' taking the cup from Tino and taking a sip. "Peter 'wake yet?" he asked.

"No," Tino replied, scrambling the eggs in the pan, then scooping them up onto the plate, "I was about to call him down, though."

Tino walked to the foot of the steps, and raised his voice. "Peter! Wake up, it's time for breakfast!"

Normally the child would have immediately responded with an "I'll be right down!" or at the very least, an "Okay, mum!" (however much Tino cringed slightly at being called 'mum')

But this morning… there was no response from up the stairs. Tino thought it was strange at first, so he called again. "Peter? It's time for breakfast, you don't want to be late for your first day of school!"

When still no response graced the man's ears, he started climbing the stairs, eyes fixed on the closed door to their son's bedroom. "Peter?" he said, "Are you awake?"

_**Doesn't come down when she calls,  
"It's time for breakfast."**_

Tino reached the door, opening it slowly, expecting to see his adopted son curled up under the comforters. But when his eyes met the sight of the normally clean room in complete disarray, broken glass from the window on the ground, and Peter nowhere to be seen, Tino screamed. "PETER!"

_**Momma can't get down those halls  
Fast enough to see  
Glass is sprayed across the floor  
From the broken window.**_

Tino stared for at least a full minute. His heart's pounding almost drowned out the sound of Berwald vaulting up the stairs. The smaller man couldn't breathe, couldn't process what was happening. All he could do for several moments was stare at the empty bed. "H-He's GONE, Berwald!" His voice was a panicked squeak, "S-someone was in our home, a-and now our boy's GONE!"

_**She can't breathe anymore.  
Can't deny what we know.**_

Berwald immediately trapped the smaller man in a tight hug, stroking his back. "We'll FIND him, Tino." He said, firmly, "I'll go call the p'lice, don't touch 'nything!"

_**They're gonna find you, just believe.  
You're not a person; you're a disease.**_

In less than a half an hour police were walking through the house, snapping pictures and putting things in bags. Tino watched numbly from his place in Berwald's comforting arms, fighting tears at the thought of their son in the hands of a maniac, hiding somewhere or worse. "We're very sorry, Mr. Val… Va…" The blonde, British-sounding police officer tried to pronounce Tino's last name.

Berwald shook his head, looking almost numb. "Just T'no and B'rwald," he said dismissively, "Th' more time y' waste trying t' pr'nounce our last names, th' less time M' boy has."

The police officer tried not to look intimidated by Berwald's voice, and continued. "Er… Right. Tino, then." He said, "You're positive you and Berwald did not hear glass breaking any time during the night?"

Tino nodded, his eyes watering. "P-Positive, Inspector Kirkland." Tino replied. "Although… Hanamatago started barking late last night… but she does it almost every night, so I didn't think anything of it…"

The blonde-haired Finn wiped at his eyes. "Oh, god, this's my fault.." he almost whispered. "I-if I'd listened to her…"

"Tino… there was nothing you could have done, old chap." The officer told him, "If Hanamatago was barking after the glass broke and Peter was taken by the unsub, there would have been nothing you could have done." He paused, and started writing on the pad of paper. "that was what time?"

"A-around midnight." Tino replied, sadness thick in his voice. "unsub?

"Unidentified subject," the inspector explained.

"Yo! Artie!" A loud voice sounded from across the room, "You'd better take a look at this."

_**All these lives that you've been taking,  
Deep inside, my heart is breaking.**_

"You bloody git, stop calling me 'Artie!' I'm an inspector for Christ's sake! Show some respect for your superiors!" the officer growled, clicking his pen and pocketing it. "What the bloody hell do you want? Can't you see I'm working on an interview."

"It's just like the other kids." The loud-mouthed, blonde officer from before said, his face cold and somber.

Tino's heart dropped into his stomach. "Other kids?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

_**Broken homes from separation.  
Don't you know it's violation?**_

Inspector Kirkland turned back to the worried parents. "We have reason to believe that Peter isn't the first child that's been taken recently." He said calmly, "There's been others. Just like him. Usually from important parentage, such as yourselves."

_**It's so wrong, but you'll see.  
Never gonna let you take my world from me.**_

Tino cringed. He and Berwald were ambassadors for Finland and Sweden, respectively. They were defiantly considered important. "All of these children were taken in the middle of the night from their own bedroom, are between the ages of six and ten." Inspector Kirkland directed them towards the loudmouth cop, who was holding a small white envelope. "And all of the crime scenes have had a note."

Tino felt his throat practically close. "oh.. my god…" he half whispered, watching the inspector pull blue-colored latex gloves over his fingers, then open the letter.

_**The world outside these walls may know you're breathing,  
But you ain't comin' in**_.

It only took the officer a moment to scan the parchment before he sighed audibly. "It's him alright. Bloody wanker insists on cutting up those newspapers for these ridiculous messages."

Tino looked up at Berwald, terror in his eyes. "It'll be l'right, T'no." he told him, "W'll get 'm back… Promise."

The police officer scanned the note, sighing and putting it in a bag with the rest of the evidence. "It's the same as before. Just says that he'll call with a date and time for a money drop off. It's a ransom note."

Tino immediately broke away from Berwald, trying to talk to the officer. "H-how much do they want?"

Inspector Kirkland looked up at him, seriousness in his eyes. "They want 500,000… Otherwise Peter…" he didn't need to finish.

"Berwald, we have to do something!" Tino squeaked.

"There's n'thin' we c'n do, Tino…" Berwald's voice was soft and sad. "W' d'nt make that kind of m'ney."

"Besides," The British officer shook his head, "Every time the drop off has been made, the missing child hasn't been returned."

Neither of them could speak for some time. "It's true." The other cop nodded. "We've tried putting up posters n' stuff, but they've turned up basically nothing. It's like these kids have just disappeared into thin air."

There was a long period of silence between the four men. "What do we do then?" Tino's voice was barely louder than a whisper. "Do we just wait for our child to turn up d-" he couldn't finish.

The British-sounding officer shook his head. "No. we already have men putting up posters with the pictures you gave us. Someone is sure to have at least some kind of information on Peter's location."

_**Posters hung on building walls  
Of missing faces.**_

Three impossibly long days passed since that fateful morning. Thoughts of the missing child consumed Tino's mind. The young man couldn't go an hour without checking the home phone for messages. Berwald finally convinced him to leave the house, even if it was only for a few moments to walk Hanamatago.

Tino watched the little white dog bounce in the snow, disappearing every so often and reappearing in a flurry of snow and pink tongue. His mind was everywhere but the location of the puppy in the snow. His gaze drifted to a telephone pole just outside the front yard. His eyes nearly watered at the poster plastered over the wooden pole, littered with various staples and nails. _Missing: Peter Kirkland, Age 8. Last seen on 9/8/13. Police Tip hotline…_ Tino shook his head and tried to blink the water from his eyes.

He felt his heart break. This wasn't supposed to happen. His baby was supposed to be in school right now, learning new things, making new friends… Instead, he was on a missing person's poster, in the clutches of some sick person enduring God only knows what. Tino jumped a little when he felt a large hand on his shoulder. Tino looked up at the body attached to the hand, seeing his husband with a look that said everything words couldn't. Tino turned into him, hiding his face in his chest, tears streaming from his eyes. "We'll FIND 'm." He told him. "I pr'mise, w'll find 'm…"

Tino started to choke out a reply when a noise rang out that made the blondes' hearts dropped into their stomachs.

The phone rang loudly through the house.

_**Months go by without the cause,  
The clues, or traces.**_

Tino scrambled through the snow, almost tripping over the front steps as he fought to reach the phone. Berwald followed after, pressing a button on a machine the police left to record phone calls. Tino picked up the phone, hesitantly putting the receiver to his ear. "H-Hello?" his voice was barely a squeak.

"M-Mummy?"

Tino felt as though he was going to cry. "P-Peter!" he whispered, "Oh my god, Peter, are you alright?! Where are you?!"

"I don't know, mummy." Peter whimpered, his voice sounding hoarse. "It's… it's really dark. I think we're underground or something."

"We'll find you, Peter!" Tino promised him, trying to convince himself. "We'll bring you home."

"H-he said," Peter said, softly, "h-he said to leave the money in the big oak tree in the park, tomorrow at noon. Th-then I can come home…"

They're gonna find you, just believe

You're not a person, you're a disease

"'Kay," Berwald agreed, all the usual blankness in his face and voice replaced with a mixture of fear and relief that his son was alive for the time being. "We'll do it, how ever much h' wants. 'Nything t' bring y' home."

"Daddy, I'm scared," Peter's voice was barely a squeak, his voice sounded hoarse "I wanna go home…"

"We'll bring you home, Peter," Berwald promised him.

"I love you da-" just at that moment, the line went dead.

"Peter?! Peter, are you there?!" Tino felt his heart in his stomach when no answer met his ears.

_**All these lives that you've been taking**_

_**Deep inside my heart is breaking**_

Frustrated, Berwald put the receiver back on the phone. "Bastard cut th' line." He muttered, pressing a button on the machine the police left, and cupped his panicked 'wife''s cheek in one large hand. "'M going t' call Inspector Kirkl'nd. Go make yours'lf a hot drink t' calm down. 'Kay?"

Tino looked up at the taller blonde and nodded shakily, his whole body trembling with a mixture of emotions. Berwald pressed his lips to Tino's forehead, a simple gesture of reassurance and affection. "H's alive, Tino," He voiced what both of their minds were thinking, "Peter's ALIVE."

_**Broken homes from separation**_

_**Don't you know it's violation?**_

"You damn frog," the shaggy-haired blonde growled, the faintest hint of a blush over his cheeks, "I told you I can't drink tonight. I have to work early tomorrow. And even if I WERE drinking, I'd have a MAN'S drink. I wouldn't drink your fermented grape VOMIT if you paid me."

The afore mentioned 'frog' simply continued to lounge elegantly in the loveseat he occupied, his long, lean legs similar to a ballet dancer's crossed over the armrest and a glass of a dark red wine rested in his hand. The man smiled an almost patronizing smirk, shoulder-length blonde hair bouncing a little as he shook his head with a quiet _tsk._ "Ah, Arthur… always so uncouth…" he said, French accent dripping from his words "When will I evair make you a cultured 'uman being?"

Arthur gave an indignant huff and returned to his book. "Perhaps the same time I finally make you less of an arse, Francis." He looked up at the Frenchman with a half-sneer. "husband-quality 'less of an arse,' perhaps."

Francis smiled slightly and laughed a quiet "ohohon". Before he could formulate a good retort, Arthur's cell phone started to buzz. "Work?" he asked casually, taking a sip from his glass.

"Yes. I think so." Arthur replied, taking it from his coat pocket and examining the phone number. "I don't recognize the number."

He tapped a green "answer" image on the screen of the phone, and put it to his ear. "Inspector Arthur Kirkland."

Francis watched casually as his lover leaned back against the cushion of his recliner, only to sit up forward again after a pause of conversation. Either the phone's volume was three decimals below deafness (a distinct possibility with Arthur), or the person on the other line was frantic, Francis decided as he listened to the garbled mumbling of words from the speaker of the phone. "You're kidding!" Arthur seemed serious and stunned all at the same time, "This has never happened before. Yes. Yes, I'll get a cab and be over right away. Good Evening."

Arthur quickly clicked the red "end" image on the screen of the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, quickly standing from his usual recliner. "Who was it?" Francis asked, more than a little surprised at his lover's reaction.

_**It's so wrong**_

"It's that couple I mentioned the other day, Tino and Berwald. The ones whose son was kidnapped earlier this week." Arthur said, pulling his gloves on and winding his scarf around his throat. "The kidnapper finally called."

"That's good… but he does that with every child, non?" Francis looked confused, "You said 'zis 'as nevair 'appened before.'"

_**But you'll see**_

"It was Peter that called," Arthur explained, "the parents never know if their child is alright or not. They always deal with the kidnapper, never the child."

"Merde," Francis breathed, putting his wine glass on the glass table in front of them, and standing from his relaxed position. "But at least zey know ze boy is okay for now, oui?"

"Yes," Arthur furrowed his incredibly prominent eyebrows. "that's what's so strange though. This kidnapper has never shown any kind of mercy to the family. Why start now?"

"Per'aps it was someone zey know." Francis shrugged, "Or someone they would recognize. I don't know, Cherie. You're ze Sherlock 'olmes, not moi."

_**Never gonna let you take my world from me**_

Arthur rolled his eyes a bit as the two of them stepped into the cold air. "You give me too much credit." He remarked. "But you may have a point with that. I'll have to think about it… I'll have the boys on the computers drudge up a list of people that coincide with the others."

Arthur hurriedly flagged down a cab, and opened the door. Francis stopped him before he could climb into the cab and planted a kiss to his lips. "Don't wait up," Arthur told him softly, "something tells me this'll be an all nighter."

"Alright," Francis said softly, though he knew in the back of his mind he wouldn't sleep anyways, "now go find zat missing boy, oui?"

"Alright." Arthur smirked a little and stepped into the cab. "I love you."

"Je t'aime aussi, mon cherie." Francis smirked, waving a little as the cab door closed and the car drove away into the night.

_**The world outside these walls may know you're breathing **_

_**But you ain't coming in**_

Inspector Kirkland made it to the home of Tino and Berwald quickly, and immediately went to examine the recorded phone call. He played it over headphones, once, twice, three times, trying to find something-ANYTHING- he might have missed.

Deciding there wasn't anything a fourth listen could help, the inspector removed the headphones from his ears and put them down on the table. He turned back to Tino and Berwald. "I have a theory," he told them, "It could be the reason Peter called and not the unsub is that the kidnapper is someone that one of you know."

"Someone we know?" Tino looked a mixture of emotions- confused, shocked, saddened, angry. "who would do such a thing?"

"I didn't say someone close," Inspector Kirkland added, "But perhaps someone you see on a regular basis… a mailcarrier, the rubbish man, a housekeeper or something… Can either of you think of someone, anyone at all, that seemed off?"

Tino looked thoughtful for a moment or two, but shook his head. "No… I can't think of anyone." He said, then looked at Berwald, who looked a shade paler. "What about you?"

Berwald grunted and gave a small nod. "M' tech support," he mumbled, taking off his glasses with one hand and setting them down on the counter in front of him then rubbing his eyes anxiously. "Maxw'll DeGr'gorio… H' comes by th' house t' check m' gaming computer few times a month…At least 'nce every two weeks 'r so…"

The tall blonde sounded as though he would break. "H-he… he always seemed t' look at Peter funny…" he recalled, his voice shaky, "I-I didn' think anythin' of it, always just shrugged it off… Oh God…" Berwald looked as though he was about to collapse. "… 'S all m' fault…"

"No it isn't, Berwald," Tino's voice and hand were gentle, comforting his husband, "You didn't know… neither of us knew. He didn't WANT us to know."

"I sh'dve known," Berwald replied, shaking his head, sinking into a nearby chair. "Damn it, I sh'dve known by th' way h' looked at m' boy… l-like h' was somethin' t' eat…"

Inspector Kirkland looked away sympathetically. "There was no way you could've known, Berwald." He said softly, "and beating yourself up about it won't find your son any faster."

Berwald took a few shaky breaths, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. "If you can get me a description of him," the inspector continued, "It's possible we can get to Peter quicker."

A few hours later, Arthur had the description of the man sent to the men and women in charge of background checks and finding people. However, a few more sleepless hours had passed and it was nearly time for the exchange to be made. Inspector Kirkland and the worried parents had agreed that a sting operation would be necessary to find the missing boy.

_**Shed the light on all the ones who never thought they would become**_

Tino fidgeted nervously, picking at his fingernails fretfully. Would his boy really be returned to him? Or would it be as the inspector had told them, and he would never see Peter after all? His heart pounded loudly at the thought.

"Right now, leave the bag where he told you to," Inspector Kirkland spoke to Berwald through an earpiece, "then go sit down on the bench, or somewhere."

Berwald grunted apprehensively, and did what he was told. He gingerly set a black gym bag filled with what appeared to be unmarked bills beneath a large oak tree, and walked away to a park bench nearby. He sat down on the bench, giving a little grunt of discomfort as the stiff wood of the bench reminded him of his age and waited. And waited. And waited.

Everyone involved was starting to get nervous. Where was he? He said noon… so where was the kidnapper? "Damn it," Inspector Kirkland swore quietly, "where the hell IS the bastard?"

As if a prayer was being answered, a man in what appeared to be a police uniform approached the bag. "What the-!?" Inspector Kirkland looked _beyond_ angry, "Who the bloody hell is that!? He's ruining the operation!"

Berwald's eyes widened. "'Nspect'r, that's h'm!" his voice was hushed, but almost a frantic yell, "That's Maxw'll!"

"Stay where you are, Berwald! We're coming!" Immediately, Inspector Kirkland turned to the officers in the van with him. "You heard the man! Go! Go! Go!"

"The Hero's on it, boss man!" the officer from earlier- later discovered to be named "Alfred"- sprang out the door of the van, a huge heroic smirk over his features.

Two others including Inspector Kirkland ran from the van to Maxwell's area. "Maxwell DeGregorio!" Inspector Kirkland called, "We'd like to ask you a few questions about a series of kidnappings."

The dark haired man looked panicked for half an instant, dropping the bag and making a mad dash away from the park. "Go! Go after him!" the inspector commanded, "Don't let him get away!"

The man led them on a chase, around corners, through alleyways, through traffic, until he was finally cornered in an alley. "Tell us where they are!" Alfred demanded, "Tell us where all the missing kids are already!"

_**A father, mother, asking why this world can be so cold**_

Maxwell shook his head, drawing a handgun from the holster on his belt(standard issue, Inspector Kirkland noted) and held it to his head. The man smiled a sick, twisted smile as he pulled the hammer back. "You won't find them." He warned, moving his finger to the trigger.

"No! NO!" Kirkland shouted, making a move to pull the gun away, only resulting in a pulled trigger and a wide splatter of red on the wall behind him.

_**Doesn't come down when she calls**__**  
**__**"It's time for breakfast."**_

He stared, absolutely speechless. Without DeGregorio alive, it could take days to find them. And by then it could already be too late! The officers waited until paramedics and forensics came and took their data, and silently walked back to the van in the park, where they knew Berwald and Tino were waiting anxiously.

Tino stood outside of the van, looking hopeful. His hopeful expression was immediately dampened when he realized that the 'unsub' was not in handcuffs anywhere near them. "W-where is he?" he asked, almost scared to hear the answer.

"He… He shot himself before we could apprehend him…" Arthur said quietly, "and without him, I'm afraid we're going to have a much harder time finding Peter."

Tino nearly fell to his knees at that. His voice was almost nonexistent as he pleaded to some higher power somewhere that his son, his baby, was alive and well.

_**The memories begin to fall**_

_**She asks, "When will I be free?"**_

Almost four days had passed since the failed sting operation, and the police had only just found a house DeGregorio had under his parents' names. After he had thouroughly chewed out the officers involved in the long search that could've-and should've- been much, MUCH shorter, Inspector Kirkland and the rest of the force were prepared to raid the small house. "Right," Kirkland's voice was quiet, on the off chance that DeGregorio had a partner inside the house. "Ready… on three… one… Two… Three!"

He made a dash for the door, knocking hard. "Police! Open the door immediately!"

When no opening door met them, ever the gung-ho hero, Alfred kicked the lock in, the creaky wooden door moaning in complaint as it opened and officers swarming the house.

One by one, the upstairs and main level rooms were checked, each room earning a "clear!" from the officer sent to check it. Kirkland had almost given up hope, until he found a locked door. "McNabb, bring me that prybar." He ordered one of the officers, who was carrying a crowbar to open a more stubborn lock on the upstairs study.

The officer addressed immediately brought it over to Kirkland, who immediately set to work jamming one end into the opening of the door, and slamming his body weight on the other end to rip the wood of the door completely away from the lock, making it open with ease. Behind the door, there was a dark set of stairs. "Torches out," Inspector Kirkland told the men behind him, drawing his flashlight, and holding it over his drawn handgun. "Is there anybody down here?" he called into the darkness, slowly descending the stairs.

"Yes!" A small voice met his ears. "Th-there's a lo' of us down here!"

_**All these lives that you've been taking,**_

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, putting the handgun in its holster when he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw there was no partner-psychopath ready to put a bullet in his brain. Only a handful of frightened, dirty-looking children that huddled in a corner, as if they were terrified of the light that came from the flashlights. "Thank God," he said, "How many of you are there?"

The small child shook nervously and looked away. "Th-there were more of us." He whimpered, "B-but the Bad Man took them to the Garage one by one, and we didn't see them again."

Inspector Kirkland's heart sank sadly. He was too late to save many of them… "I see…" he murmured, "What's your name, bub? And How many of you are left?"

"R-Raivis. R-Raivis Galante… I-I dunno how many, sir…" the mousey haired boy shivered, "F-five, I think, b-but Peter's not waking up…"

Arthur's heart dropped again at the mention of Peter. "Where is he, Raivis? I have EMTs outside, and they can help him." He asked gently.

Raivis pointed to a small, blanketed mass in the corner, looking thin and sickly. Arthur rushed over to the small boy, feeling frantically for a pulse. When the quiet, gentle thump of a heartbeat pulsed against his fingers, he felt instantly relieved. "Yes, five, Raivis," he said with a relieved smile, "Alfred, Tell EMTs to get down here, now! We have a sick little boy down here."

"On it, Iggy!" Alfred nearly vaulted up the stairs, shouting for medics.

_**Deep inside my heart is breaking**_

Tino reread the same line in his book, for what seemed like the hundredth time. Reading wasn't working, he decided, putting a bookmark in the pages and putting the book down on the coffee table. Hanatamago whimpered quietly at her master's sadness and nuzzled him with her cold black nose. Tino felt his eyes water as he scratched her head. He was tired; he had only gotten an hour or two of real sleep since what happened four days ago, and the phone had given him nothing but radio silence.

Just as he was about to get up to make himself more tea, the phone beside him rang loudly. Tino attacked it on the first ring, not even bothering to curb his anxiety as he answered. "Hello?"

Inspector Kirkland's voice greeted him on the other end. "Tino, we've found him!" he said, "We've found Peter!"

Tino was speechless for a full four minutes before he could say anything besides "Oh my god!" or "my baby!" "He is sick from malnutrition, and is in the hospital," the inspector informed him, "But I've been told that he will make a full recovery in the next few days."

"Th-thank you, thank you, Inspector!" Tino exclaimed, standing from the couch he sat at and half running to the front door, "I-I have to go tell Berwald! Thank you!"

He hung up the phone and pulled a coat on over his pajama shirt, not even bothering to put on real shoes before he dashed through the snow to his dark blue car. He started it up and threw it in gear, not bothering to give it time to warm up, and tore out of the icy driveway.

Paying little to no attention to traffic laws, or his own safety on hazardous roads, he drove to Berwald's office at the UN in record time. He didn't have to show credentials to the security guards, not that he would've stopped anyways, and ran to the elevator and out the third floor to the last office down the hall. The door was closed- an uncommon occurance- but Tino burst in without knocking. "Berwald!"

Berwald looked-through his ever stoic and expressionless face- absolutely mortified that Tino had burst into his office during a meeting with his boss. With an apologetic look to his boss, he started to stand and approach Tino. "Tino, now's n' a good t-"

Tino ignored his husband's disapproving words, and quickly walked right up to him, taking his face in his hands. "Peter's alive, Berwald," he said, a wide smile over his face and tears in his eyes, "Th-they found him, they found our baby!"

Any irritation or chagrin felt from his wife's sudden intrusion Berwald had felt immediately washed away. "Th-they… what?" he couldn't believe his own ears.

"They found him, Berwald," Tino wiped happily at the tears in his eyes. "They just called me a few minutes ago, they found Peter!"

"M' God…" Berwald barely breathed, dashing back to his desk and hastily shoving papers into his briefcase. "M-Mr. Stenstrom, please f'give me, I have to leave early!"

The man in front of him sighed almost impatiently. "Very well… just be sure to have those numbers for me before next Friday."

Berwald muttered a hasty goodbye before grabbing his coat from the rack and grabbing Tino's hand. Together, they ran to the parking garage to Berwald's honey yellow car, again not bothering to let it warm up before tearing out of the spot with a loud screech of tire on pavement.

_**All these lives that you've been taking**__**  
**__**Deep inside, my heart is breaking**_

The overjoyed parents made it to the hospital breaking every traffic law short of blowing red lights and driving on the sidewalk, and rushed to the nurse's station of the pediatric ward. "O- Oxenstierna." Berwald told her, out of breath from running, "P-Peter Kirkland-Oxenstierna. What room?"

The nurse appeared incredibly intimidated by Berwald's intense glare (Tino of course knew that he was simply squinting his eyes because he didn't see well when he was tired, and he knew that Berwald had not gotten any more sleep than he had). She swallowed a nervous lump in her throat, and pointed to the right. "Th-three-oh'-four," she stuttered, trying to keep her voice even, "Peter's in room Three-oh'-four."

"Th'nks," Berwald muttered distractedly, not running but quickly walking down the halls until a small plaque with "304" emblazoned on it graced his sky blue eyes. Immediately, he darted in the door, Tino following close behind him. Tino nearly froze at the sight. His boy, his baby, laid there in the bed looking groggy and thin, eyes barely open and half a dozen tubes and wires coming from him. "M-mummy…" Peter whimpered, his voice sounding as though he hadn't used it in months.

"Oh, my baby!" Tino broke down right then and there, running to Peter and throwing his arms around the broken boy, sobbing loudly and hugging him as if he would disappear if he loosened his grip. "my baby boy, I thought I'd lost you forever!"

"S-scared… mummy, I was so scared!" Peter whimpered, still too weak to hug him back.

"We w're too, Peter," Berwald's voice was broken up with tears as well, his stoic face streaked with rivers cascading from his eyes. "B' we have you back now, n' that's what's 'mportant. We'll never let somethin' like this happen t' y' ever 'gain."

_**The world outside these walls may know you're breathing**_

Arthur watched silently from an observation window as Tino and Berwald embraced their son with tears in their eyes. He couldn't help but smile. It was times like this he enjoyed what he did for a living, if only to see a child's happy face when he's reunited with his parents. In the back of his mind, however, he did know this reunion was bittersweet. Sonar had found almost thirteen bodies all buried in the man's garden, all of them under the age of twelve, all missing since almost the eighties. Thirty years this bastard had been doing this, and they were only just now finding him? Arthur felt sick at the thought.

Quiet footsteps from not far away brought him back down to Earth. He glanced in the direction, seeing a tall, lean man with wavy blonde hair and a flowing loosely buttoned button-up shirt smiling. "What're you doing here, Francis?" Arthur asked, genuinely surprised to see him.

"I 'eard about Peter on ze news," the Frenchman replied, "I figured this would be ze first place to look for you, so I could congratulate you."

He put a hand to the back of Arthur's neck, rubbing gently. "You found them, _mon amour._ You finally found all ze _petits cheris_."

Arthur turned away slightly. "Not all of them," he said softly, "I just heard from McNabb, sonar turned up another thirteen bodies in the bastard's garden."

"I said you found zem all, _mon amour,_ and you did." Francis said, sounding sad. "It is a 'orrible, 'orrible way to be found, but at least now the families of those children can have closure, and can sleep at night knowing their baby is in a better place than where they were."

Arthur felt his heart break at Francis's words. He turned back to the Frenchman, eyes welling up with tears. "Damn it, Francis," he murmured, "When the hell did you get so good at saying things?"

Francis only smiled sadly and took Arthur in his arms. "Around ze same time you started needing me to say things." He said, stroking Arthur's unruly blonde hair.

There was a gap of silence between them, until Arthur finally spoke. "Yes, Francis… my answer is yes…"

"Your answer to what, _mon amour_?" Francis asked gently.

"I'll marry you, you bloody git." Arthur replied very quietly.

Francis smiled down at his love, kissing him on the forehead. "_Je t'aime, _Angeleterre…"

Just as Arthur was about to repeat it back to him, his thoughts were interrupted. "E-ehm, Inspector Kirkland?"

Arthur looked up, seeing Tino in front of them. "Ah, Tino, yes, yes, what is it?" Arthur asked, almost immediately escaping Francis's arms and wiping at the impending moisture in his eyes.

"I just… I wanted to thank you, sir." Tino's eyes were wet with tears, and his smile stretched all the way over his face. "I was so scared I'd never see my baby again… I had all but lost hope before you called me."

"I'm just doing my job, old chap." Arthur smiled happily, "I'm just glad Peter's alright."

Tino looked back at his family from the outside of the glass. "Yes." He said with a smile, "I have my baby back… Things will be alright now."

As Tino left to return to his family, Francis put his hand back on Arthur's shoulder. "You did well, _mon amour._" He said, "You brought a killer to light, and you brought several families back together."

"All in a day's work, Love." Arthur shook his head with a smile, taking his lover's large hand in his smaller hand. "Come on. Let's leave this place, and go get something to eat. I'm starving."

_**But you ain't coming in.**_


End file.
